


Gab Tae Me

by therunawaypen



Series: 00Q Tumblr Prompt Fills [71]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Accents, M/M, Poetry, Q has a thing for accents, Scottish Accents, robert burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, when James is tired, he reverts back to a thick Scottish brogue. Apparently, Q really likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hun! Prompt for you because just about everything you write makes me smile and I think you might have fun with this one. I recently discovered I have a heavy accent while drinking, which led me to think about Bond using a Scottish brogue when he’s at home with Q. Bond reading Robbie Burns poetry to Q = massive turn on. Have fun! <3 —salios

They had been at home when Q first heard it (and it was only at home that he’s heard it since). James had been gone for nearly a month on assignment and had returned with a broken (read: shattered) ankle. To say the agent was exhausted would have been an understatement, and being on bedrest hadn’t done much for him.

He was ranting as he lay on the couch while Q finished up dinner before he brought it out to the living room. Q could hear his lover from the other room, even if he was talking to himself.

“Of all the damn things to happen on assignment, I brreak my bloody ankle on the otherr side of the worreld…”

Q blinked, pausing in taking the pizza out of the oven. For a moment, he thought he had imagined the differences in James’s speech. But when he thought about it, he _knew_ that he had heard the short roll of the r’s, a single tap really…and did James add a syllable to the word “world?”

“James?” Q poked his head into the living room.

The agent looked back toward Q from where he was laid out on the couch, “Yes?” He asked.

After a moment, Q shook his head, “I just wanted to know how much you wanted, and if you needed anything to drink.”

James nodded, rubbing his face tiredly, “Yeah, Ah hink I’ll start wi' tois slices furr noo, thocht Ah woods enjoy some scotch rreit noo if ye coods poorr some.”

Q stared at James for a long while, not sure what to do. There was no mistaking it, Q _had_ heard what he thought he had heard. And judging by the tingles running down his spine, he rather liked it…

James noticed Q staring, “What?”

“Oh, nothing…” Q cleared his throat, “Just um…could you repeat that? I didn’t quite…understand…”

It took the agent a moment to realize what he had said, “I’m sorry Q.” James cleared his throat, his voice retaining its usual clipped tone, “Sometimes when I get tired…”

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Q chuckled, “I like it actually…”

James nodded, “Right…just two slices and some Scotch please, love.”

Q chuckled, returning to the kitchen to fix up their plates. Of all the things to discover about his lover…of all the things to get turned on by…the Quartermaster bit his lip as he finished plating up dinner, wondering if he should…

It only took Q a moment’s contemplation before he hurried to the bedroom and went straight to the bookshelf on the far wall. It took Q a few moments to scan the bookshelf to find the book he was after (he was so used to having everything on computer), but soon he had it.

By the time Q came into the living room, he had dinner in his hands and a book tucked under his arm.

James noticed it immediately after Q handed him his plate, “You’ve got an honest to goodness book there. And it’s on paper.”

“Your accent’s gone.” Q pouted slightly (not that he would admit it).

“Well I try not to let it show too much, but sometimes when I’m tired…” James shook his head.

Q frowned, “Then I don’t suppose you’d want to read any of these?” he said as he held up the book for James to read.

The agent raised an eyebrow at the title, “Poetry, Q, really?” He chuckled, taking the book of poems from him. Seeing Q’s somewhat (read: very) hopeful expression, he smiled, “Alrrecht, but jist one…”

The Quartermaster suppressed the shivers that danced down his spine, instead he leaned against James (careful not to hurt his injured ankle) as the agent opened the book and selected a poem.

“O my Luve's like a red, red rose

That's newly sprung in June;

O my Luve's like the melodie

That's sweetly play'd in tune.”

The tingles were back with a vengeance, and Q could practically feel his cheeks burning red as he leaned his head against James’s chest, feeling the rumble of his chest as his brogue took over.

“As fair art thou, my bonnie …lad,” James shot Q a knowing look as he changed the word. If Q was blushing before, he was on fire now.

“So deep in luve am I:

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry:”

By now, Q was starting to feel hot all over. And James must have felt it as well, by the way his hand was wandering up and down Q’s waist, even dipping below the waistline of his trousers.

“Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun:

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.”

They never made it to the last quatrain, seeing as Q had firmly attached himself to James’s lips. But then again, James didn’t seem to mind that much.


	2. Chapter 2

Once James had learned about Q’s fascination with his accent, he found that he was finding just about any excuse possible to slip it in when they were in the comfort of their home. Sometimes it was a slightly rolled r when James asked Q a question, sometimes it was the way James pronounced something during a conversation.

No matter what James did, it always served to send a shiver down Q’s spine.

But of course, the best was the poetry. Whenever James would murmur the verses in his thick brogue, Q never failed to become putty in his hands. So needless to say, James had made a point to memorize several poems in case the situation called for it.

Such as when his lover was currently mad at him.

“I cannot believe how reckless you were!” Q shouted, forcefully chopping vegetables for their dinner. James stood behind Q, watching the tension in his back and shoulders as he worked. His last mission had not gone well (then again, they rarely did), and there might have been a near death experience or two (or four, James never did count). And to say Q was displeased would have been an understatement. “I nearly had to watch you _die_ , James. Again!”

“It isn’t like I plan to do it.” James shook his head, stepping behind Q.

Q huffed, “You never plan at all, and every time you leave, I have to be ready to never see you again.”

James wrapped his arms around Q’s waist, touching his lips to the Quartermaster’s ear, “ _Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, and then for ever!”_ he murmured, “ _Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee_.”

A gasp sounded from Q as he gripped his knife tighter, “James, this is _not_ the time—”

“ _Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,”_ James continued, pressing kisses to Q’s ear, “ _While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me_ ,” He held Q close, “ _Dark despair around benights me.”_

He could see Q’s hand trembling as he slowly let go of the knife, and his muscles began to lose their tension. He smiled softly before going on, “ _I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy; Naething could resist my …”_ James quietly spoke a name in Q’s ear, causing the Quartermaster’s breath to catch, “ _But to see him was to love him, Love but him, and love for ever._ ”

James felt the air knocked out of his lungs as Q all but tackled him to the floor.

“You did this on purpose.” Q growled in his ear, straddling James’s waist. The 00 agent couldn’t help but find the position rather enjoyable.

He grinned up at his lover, moving his hands to Q’s hips, “ _Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly_ ,” He murmured, “ _Never met -or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.”_

James was interrupted by Q’s lips being crushed against his in a desperate and heated kiss. “Shut up, James.” Q’s face was flushed and James could feel that there was… _tension_ of a different sort building up in his lover’s body.

The poetry never failed to drive Q absolutely wild, and now that James thought about it, he never was able to actually _finish_ a poem. Then again…he didn’t exactly mind all that much.

 


End file.
